The Darker Tournament
by LivelyNightshade
Summary: After a relatively uneventful year the Dark Tournament has rolled back around and team Urameshi is once again called to compete. This time by Koenma's order. With the search for a trust worthy fifth member, anti-human factions, and Demon World politics getting dragged into the fray this year may be more eventful than the last.
1. 1: And Off We Go Again

**Chapter One**

**_And Off We Go Again_**

Wednesday 12:20 PM

"You're kidding me," Yusuke said, while next to him Kuwabara was busy making inarticulate raging noises.

"I assure you, I am entirely serious," Koenma replied from where he was perched on a chair in one of the precious spaces of Yusuke's floor not coated in a fine layer of scattered clothing and forgotten papers. Yusuke sat on his bed, leaning back against the wall behind him, an expression of disbelieving annoyance on his face.

"Um… I don't know if ya'll remember this, but I'm pretty sure Sakyo offed himself at the end of the last tournament. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but I coulda sworn he was in charge."

"You're not entirely incorrect," Koenma replied, "For the past few decades the Dark Tournament has been funded, constructed, and run by the Black Black Club. But the tournament itself existed long before Sakyo was born. For centuries the Black Tournament has been run by a collection of people, sometimes human, sometimes demon. But behind every tournament committee has been the hands of the three kings of Demon World."

Yusuke frowned, "The three kings of Demon World? Let me guess, boy band?"

"Currently the Demon World is divided between three empires under three monarchs," Kurama said from the corner where he sat across from the door. "They are Mukuro, Yomi, and Raizen."

"Okay. And, why the hell are some demon royals supporting a bunch of humans gambling on pay per view demon fights?"

"The Dark Tournament provides a similar function to the Colosseums of Rome," Kurama replied. "It offers a space for lower class demons to fight, exhaust themselves, and die so that they don't become much of a nuisance to society. At the same time it provides a space for higher-class demons to wrestle, show their force, and fight amongst each other, which keeps them amused and stops them from becoming restless and plotting rebellions.

"The kings never get their hands dirty, and never set foot in the tournament. But they use their power to ensure that the tournament continues to run in the case that the stadium is destroyed, or they lose a tournament committee."

Yusuke frowned. "If that's the case, then aren't we fighting the wrong battle?" he asked. "I mean, are you telling me that this tournament is the only thing keeping demon world from turning into a bunch of elaborate musical numbers about some guy who stole a loaf of bread."

Koenma blinked, shook his head as if hoping that by shaking those words around in his brain they'd come up in an order that made sense. And when this inevitably failed asked, "Excuse me?"

"It's a reference to human culture," Kurama explained. "Though I didn't peg you as the Les Mis type."

Yusuke just shrugged. "Keiko's nuts for it."

Kurama continued. "That's not entirely correct, though quelling resistance is certainly part of the tournament's purpose. I'm sure you've realized that within demon world there is a wide spread culture of belligerence—"

"Whoa! How about words half that size, preferably in English," Yusuke cut in.

Kurama stopped and summarized. "I'm sure that you've noticed that demons like to fight."

Yusuke gave him a look. "Uh, yeah, I think I managed that deduction about 5 minutes after meeting Goki. It solidified somewhere between Hiei punching my brains in, and him slamming me into the wall."

"The Dark Tournament provides a space for that violence to be released. It also provides a time and a place for the reestablishment and testing of the social order. Demonic social standing is dictated by strength. It's like with you and Kuwabara. He used to test you daily in an attempt to gain social standing over you by challenging you to fight, and everyday the two of you would reestablish that Yusuke is dominant."

"Hey!" came Kuwabara's insulted protestation. Kurama ignored it.

"The Dark Tournament is essentially what would happen if the two of you had decided that every month you'd meet at a specific time and place to fight and reassert dominance. And between those times there would be a kind of peace."

"…I feel like I just got my entire life explained to me like a discovery channel special. We gonna discuss my mating rituals next?"

"I would prefer not to at the moment," Kurama replied perfectly smoothly and seriously. "However if your mother's explanation was lacking I am willing to fill in the ga—"

"MOVING ON NOW!" Kuwabara cut in over Kurama while Yusuke just laughed.

"In any case—" Yusuke said. "If the demons need to duke some shit out, let them duke their shit out. I don't see why we need to get involved if they're just establishing the pecking order."

"We want you involved," Koenma replied, "because the five demons at the top of the pecking order get a wish fulfilled by the tournament committee. You may remember that before competing Toguro was a lower class human. He left as a B class demon."

That quieted Yusuke. His expression turned to one of confusion with an undertone of sadness. "How do you even do that?" he asked. "Turn a human into a demon."

"Money, and connections," Koenma replied somberly. "If your client is driven and doesn't fear unknown outcomes, then you can find many scientists within the demon trade who would give their right arm for some human experimentation. With enough money you can find someone who might not kill you in the process."

Kuwabara and Yusuke both shuddered. Koenma sat back in his seat and surveyed the two of them.

"Can I trust that you see why this is important?"

Yusuke frowned, giving as sigh as he leaned back against the window again. "Yeah, I guess…"

"So I have your agreement that you'll compete?"

"Wait, I have a choice?" Yusuke asked perking up.

"No."

"Then why the _hell'd_ you ask?"

"Because I like to let you pretend."

"Hey Koenma, come over here. I've got something for ya."

"And that, I think, is my queue to leave," Koenma said, standing. "Kurama will talk to you about the logistics of training and preparation. If you need me, use Yusuke's two way mirror."

Kurama nodded, "We will, safe travel."

Koenma turned with a flourish of his entirely unnecessary cloak and left the room. They waited as the door closed and Koenma's footsteps faded, then vanished. Then Yusuke turned to Kurama.

"So what's your take on this?"

"I have a number of them," Kurama replied, shifting from his isolated chair in the corner to take Koenma's seat closer to the two teenagers on the bed. "Which I will explain in time. For the moment we must discuss the logistics of the next tournament. Our first item of concern is safety."

Yusuke raised an eyebrow. "Pretty sure that's not the point of the tournament. I think the 'safety measures' that apply there are: hit things until you're sure they're not gonna kill you."

"I'm talking about pretournament," Kurama replied lightly. "Last year we won with three humans and one half human. There are a lot of demon factions who were not happy about that result. They've been relatively calm since the end of the tournament. However when word gets out that we are competing again, whatever immunity protected you will vanish. The two of you must prepare to raise your caution level. I will council both of you on basic safety measures.

"I have already discussed the matter with Master Genkai and we have agreed that it will be safest if the team moves in with her for the next few months until the tournament. Her temple is shielded against prying eyes and remote weapon—"

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Hold up," Kuwabara cut in. "Are you trying to tell me that you think demons are gonna come hunting us down just because we're gonna compete?"

"More importantly, why do we care?" asked Yusuke. "I mean really. I get demons trying to bash my brains in every other week. So, what? It'll be every other day? Screw it at this point I'll take the excitement."

Kurama fixed Yusuke with the kind of glance you generally get when your dad's explaining that Santa's not real.

"Yusuke every demon you've met so far has been either playing with you or… less than optimally intelligent. Furthermore, they've all been operating under 'establish pecking order' parameters. They haven't been trying to _kill_ you. A well-trained assassin will not corner you in a dark alleyway and _challenge _you there. Anyone intelligent wouldn't use the Makai insects to create a zombie army, they'd use them to make your mother slit your throat in the middle of the night, or poison your food. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Yusuke nodded uncertainly. Kuwabara had gone pale beside him. Kurama gave a soft, reassuring smile.

"I am sorry to be so graphic, but I must warn you as to the danger that you're in. We will leave for Genkai's temple by Saturday. I must ask that you bring anyone who can be used to blackmail you along."

Yusuke winced. "Ah yeah. Keiko's gonna _love_ that." Suddenly he stopped, a thought occurring to him. "Wait, what about your mom? Isn't she going to be in danger too?"

Kurama smiled. "I will take care of that. Do not concern yourself. Once we are at Genkai's temple we will begin running logistics for the tournament. Figuring out how we will select our fifth member will be the main article on the agenda. I've already discussed it with Genkai to some extent."

"Just the fifth?" Kuwabara asked. "You really think the pipsqueek's gonna work with us again?"

"Koenma still has some leverage over him, though you are correct in that it will not last. I will go to him soon and learn his stance definitively. But until then we will assume that he is on our side," Kurama replied.

Yusuke frowned. "Can we ask Jin, or that Chu guy to join us?"

Kurama shook his head. "I've thought of that. Jin, Chu, Touya, Suzuka, and Shishiwakamaru have forged their own team with Rinku as a sixth back up member."

Yusuke perked up at this. "Aw, nice! So we'll get to see those guys again!"

Kurama nodded. "And even more valuable, they are less likely to wish for disastrous things for the Human World if they win. Which means that we effectively have two teams in the race."

_Of course we have no real certainty behind their motives, but Yusuke does not need to know that today._

Yusuke sat back in thought. "Hmmm… What if we ran a competition? Kinda like how granny auditioned for an apprentice."

"We considered that as well," Kurama said. "But what Genkai does not have a good test for is motive. We need to find a person capable of fighting who won't wish for something damaging to the Human World if we win. We must trust them not to sabotage us, sell out our secrets, manipulate us against each other, or murder us in our sleep."

Yusuke and Kuwabara had that look again and Kurama carefully kept his sigh to himself. He couldn't help but wonder what would become of these two if they ever ended up living with the kind of threats that he'd been under back when he'd been a thief—

That wasn't true. He wasn't wondering anything. His brain was perfectly capable of providing a visual of two corpses in response to that question.

"Right then… _Do_ we have a way of testing for that?"

Kurama tilted an eyebrow. "Yusuke, when you discover a test for motive you may proceed to take over the world as you please."

Yusuke grinned. "Thanks, I'll keep that in mind. I mean, can we, like, spiritually polygraph them or something?"

Kurama shook his head again. "Firstly, polygraphs are ineffective on humans. Secondly the amount of effort that it takes for a demon to manipulate the results are minimal."

"Are there like, truth spells, or truth serums you can use? What about veritaserum?"

"Yusuke, I don't know how to break this to you, but you're not in Harry Potter."

"Damn."

"And no."

"Double damn."

Kurama stood from his chair. "For the time being we will leave the question open and discuss it further with Genkai. You two should begin preparations to relocate and inform your families and intimate relations."

Yusuke raised an eyebrow. " 'Intimate relations'? Did you know that you talk like a bad court drama?" he asked.

"Wait a second!" Kuwabara suddenly nearly fell out of his chair. "Doesn't Yukina live with Genkai?!"

Kurama nodded.

"Jesus Kuwabara, the love of your life and you don't fucking remember where she's been living for the last year?"

"I know where she's been living Urameshi!" Kuwabara snapped. "I just didn't realize—We'll get to spend an entire _month_ together!"

Kurama concluded that this was not something he needed to be subjected to and excused himself from the room. He had his own matters to attend to.

* * *

A/N Thank you for reading this chapter. I'll have it updated by next Friday at the latest. Insert obligatory plead for reviews here, and have a lovely weekend.


	2. 2: Conversation and Contemplation

**Chapter 2**

**Conversation and Contemplation**

Tuesday

10:30 AM

A hollow thunk rang out through the garden as the stick of bamboo filled to the tipping point with water, and thunked against the rock beneath it. The shishi-odoshi as it was called. Kurama's eyes were focused on the brightly coloured fish darting around each other in the clear pond at their feet. He lifted his cup of tea and drank from it absently.

"Has Koenma told them yet?" asked a rugged, gruff voice from beside him.

"Tomorrow," Kurama replied. "I convinced him to confirm it to me sooner. Though I'd hardly had any doubt. Koenma has been wanting to get a solid influence over the Dark Tournament for centuries."

Genkai nodded. That much was obvious to anyone paying attention.

"Master Genkai, I have come here to request a consultation with you."

"And here I thought you'd come 50 miles to the middle of the wilderness for the free tea."

Kurama gave a soft laugh. "Yusuke and Kuwabara are not equipped to deal with this situation. They know how to win in a ring, but neither of them has given any thought to the politics outside of the arena. Once word gets out that they're competing again…"

Genkai sucked air between her teeth in a disapproving tsk. "Kurama, I'm not Koenma. Either deal with me honestly or put in some real effort. Yes, I have room here to house the two blockheads and their families. Do you have anything you _actually_ want to consult me on? Or just more poorly disguised requests?"

Kurama bowed his head. "My apologies. It is the most effective way of dealing with most people. Sometimes I forget to take it off. I do have something to consult you on. As you well know we are down a member. And I confess that I see no… good solutions."

"That's because there are no good solutions," Genkai replied. "Just ones that won't get you killed. Problem is you don't know which ones won't get you killed until you get the knife in your back."

Kurama chuckled again. "Yes."

Genkai sat back, tea in hand. "Well Kurama, I'll list your options for you. You have six connections to work with. That's you, me, Yusuke, Kuwabara, Hiei, and Koenma. Hiei is not only a dubious asset himself, but if he knew anyone powerful who'd be willing to team up with him, he wouldn't have burgled Enma with Goki and a half demon bastard child. No offense."

Kurama smiled. "Of course not."

"Koenma presents the same problem. If he had anyone of any use to rely on, he wouldn't be sending Yusuke running across the country at the drop of a hat every other week. You can use Koenma's resources to run a background check on anyone you're considering. Of course most people worth working with can fool his records. But that's all he's really good for. You've exhausted the demons Yusuke and Kuwabara know with Jin and Touya's team. I will call on the people I've met in my lifetime who aren't homicidal, insane, or dead, but I'm not holding my breath."

"You know such people?" Kurama couldn't keep himself from asking.

"That's why I'm not holding my breath," Genkai replied. "And I can't imagine you have any old connections that you'd like to call on again."

"You would be correct."

"That's the problem with interesting people. They tend to be loners with a lifetime of baggage. Everything work's great until one of them dies or goes senile and has to be replaced. That's when you realize you're more alone in the world than you think."

Silence fell as they both paused for tea and thought.

"Well Kurama. If I were you I'd start thinking about what you'll do if you have to take on a stranger. Remember that if you recruit someone you know and don't trust at least you know why you don't trust them."

Kurama nodded. Silence fell again until finally Kurama spoke.

"I must be heading back shortly. Koenma will be informing Yusuke of the tournament tomorrow, and I must be back by then. I will aim to have Yusuke and Kuwabara leave for your temple by Saturday. Can you have space for them and their families by then?"

"Yes," Genkai replied. "Should I prepare extra space for anyone for you?"

"No," Kurama replied. "I have that under control."

There was another stretch of silence, broken by the hollow thunk of the shishi-odoshi.

"Kurama, I'm going to be blunt for a minute."

"You weren't already?" Kurama asked with a soft laugh.

"You are acting like one of the dumbest intelligent people I've talked to in at least the last few decades."

"Heh, I thank you for the honor."

Genkai ignored his comment.

"Cut the bullshit and tell your mom."

Kurama did not respond. A soft, receptive smile was placed on his lips.

"You're letting her hang over your head like a neon sign telling the world that your fly's down. You don't want to manipulate her so you leave her painfully unprotected. At the same time you lie to her every day by omission. Right now you are carefully cherry picking the absolute worst of both worlds. If you're going to lie to her, then manipulate her so that she's safe. If you don't want to taint your relationship with manipulation, than for God's sake Kurama stop half-assing it and be truthful all the way.

"There is _no_ good reason why your mother should have been used against you in the last tournament and you damn well know it. You're playing cute and dumb and its only attractive to people too stupid to see how destructive it is. You're afraid of what will happen if you let your demonic side into your human life, so you put on the mask of how you think a normal, stupid human would act. It may win you 'best son in the world' mugs, but it sure as hell won't win her life back when someone who knows how the fuck to blackmail comes along. So cut the shit."

Genkai took a long drink from her teacup while Kurama sat with a perfectly neutral expression on his face, his eyes still fixed on the fish darting around the pond.

"Thank you for your advice," Kurama replied smoothly.

The silence stretched.

"Anymore questions?"

"No. Thank you for your consultation," Kurama stood, and gave Genkai a soft bow and turned. His bare feet passed silently over the stones leading from Genkai's garden to her temple.

"Kurama."

The boy stopped halfway along the path.

"Do it before you talk to Hiei. Your cutesy human mask scares him. He knows you're intelligent, so when you act stupid it means that he can't predict your underlying motives, so he has to assume they're malicious. And God knows the last thing he needs is an extra reason not to trust you."

"…I understand. Thank you for your time," Kurama said, and vanished into the temple.

* * *

Tuesday 9:15 PM

Kurama sat tucked away in the high branches of one of the larger oak trees at the edge of his town, pondering.

_"If I may ask," Kurama said as his meeting with Koenma drew to a close. "Have you run your plans to compete in the tournament past your father?"_

_Koenma nodded. "He prompted me to do it, actually."_

It was as Kurama had suspected. Koenma had been wanting to get influence over the dark tournament for a long time. Everyone knew it. But imperial officials rarely competed within the tournament. It was breaking a sort of unspoken rule. Intelligent demons knew that the tournament was kept afloat by the reining powers. But no contestant within Mukuro, Yomi, or Raizen's ranks ever competed. To do that would provide an open challenge.

It sent a clear message: _I have entered into the pecking order. Challenge me._

And the moment that one challenger from one kingdom competed in the tournament, the tournament would immediately dissolve into a political playground. A space for the reining powers to assess pecking order between empires, compare military strength, and decide whether they had the means to win in war.

Enma was no exception. So while he tried to make sure that humans won the tournament instead of demons, he never sent his personal detective into the fray. The last tournament had been a free trial run for him. Yusuke had no choice. The Demon World understood challenges of honor, and so they had understood that Yusuke came to the tournament as Toguro's rival, and not Enma's detective. This year that was no longer true. Which left the question of what Enma was trying to communicate to the demon world by having Yusuke compete.

He could play it off again this year, by saying that Yusuke was the reining champion, and it's customary for the reining champion to compete the next year. But not all reining champions competed. Toguro hadn't. And by not turning down the offer Enma was sending a direct challenge to Mukuro, Yomi, and Raizen. _Come. See my soldier. Look what I have done with him._

_But to what end?_ Kurama wondered.

_To provoke war with Demon World?_

Genkai was correct. If Enma had a good team of soldiers beneath him he would not be relying so heavily on Yusuke every time something popped up. To provoke a battle with such scant resources was beyond stupid. Of course it was possible that Enma was intentionally concealing a greater force than he was letting on…

_To send a warning?_

"Keep your demons out of my human world, or they will face my detective." A show of strength to deter further conflict? But that won't work, and Enma must know it. This will only _increase _the number of demons who want to test their strength against Yusuke—

_To strengthen his detective?_

Up the challenge level for Yusuke and force him to adapt to being hunted. It was definitely true that Yusuke seemed to grow best under threat to his life, or the lives of those around him. If Enma was planning a battle in the future that he wanted Yusuke to be a central piece in, this strategy for strengthening his soldier wouldn't be unreasonable…

One final idea was prickling at the back of Kurama's mind, and Kurama found that he had some kind of resistance to it. That alone was a blazing sign that the possibility was an important one. So he calmed his churning thoughts and pushed that resistance carefully to the side and let the final possibility unfurl to be adequately explored.

_To kill his detective?_

If Enma was planning to kill Yusuke, throwing him into the tournament, catching the attention of the reining monarchs, then not backing his pawn with an army was certainly an effective way to do it. He could even cloak it under any of the other possible reasons that Kurama had already come up with.

_'But he has no motive,'_ Kurama's mind tried to argue before another voice cut in over it—shutting down the definite statement with a clarifying question.

_What do I think I know, and how do I think I know it?*_

To know whether Enma has a motive you must know his mind well enough to predict him on a personal level. You must know the variables that Enma sees. You can predict his movements on a political level because you understand the political entity that he speaks for. But he has carefully kept himself far away where you will not be able to meet him personally. He has planted the stage so that he cannot be read.

Kurama mentally committed each of these possibilities to memory and began listing tests for each hypothesis:

**Provoke War**

What next step will Enma take if this is his goal?

Step 1: Raise an army.

Test: Keep an eye out for any space within Spirit World that is not being used that could be secretly housing barracks.

Step 2: Fragment his enemy.

Sub-step: Stir up rumors at the tournament to keep the three empires fragmented.

Test:

1. Find trusted demons who aren't suspected of being Team Urameshi sympathizers. Situate them throughout the rumor mill to stay in the gossip loop.

2. Bribe/drug demons to get information about gossip.

Complication: Rumors happen. It does not prove Enma's involvement.

Kurama frowned. Thought a bit longer, then left that step open ended and moved to the next.

**Send a Warning**

What next step will Enma take if this is his goal?

Step: Urge Yusuke to kill his opponents.

Kurama and Hiei had the reputation of killing their opponents. Kuwabara and Yusuke did not. If Yusuke showed that he would kill any demon that opposed him without a second thought, the message might be received.

Test: Monitor what messages Yusuke receives and from whom.

Monitor Yusuke's actions.

Use knowledge from involvement in the rumor mill to monitor public opinion of Yusuke.

**Strengthen his Detective**

What next step will Enma take if this is his goal?

Goal: Monitor Yusuke's situation, be ready to step in if things go seriously out of control.

Test: Monitor what safety precautions Enma takes. Does he have men standing by to intervene if things get out of hand or avert the more subtle murder plots?

Complication: Difficult to test without attempting to murder Yusuke.

**Kill his Detective**

What next step will Enma take if this is his goal?

Stand back and watch the show.

Kurama frowned. It was not a good sign that that was the only goal that involved no extra steps on Enma's part.

* * *

A/N 12:54AM Saturday totally counts as updating on Friday, doesn't it?


	3. 3: Honesty: First Attempt

A/N- This chapter is quite a bit longer than the others. And a bit dramatic. I fear that it may drag on a bit, and I really should edit it down. But I don't have the time to do that and stay on my posting schedule, so I'm prioritizing sticking to the schedule. I may come back and cut it down in the future.

For the time being, enjoy the monstrosity ^^;;

* * *

**Chapter Three**

**Honesty: First Attempt**

_We haven't exhausted all the information that we could glean that might give us insight into Enma's motives. Our next step should be to see whether we can gain any information about Enma's previous spirit detectives._

_-False. Our next step is to do what Yusuke and Kuwabara are doing and begin relocating our family to a safe location._

_-Enma doesn't share such records freely, but there are others more willing to talk. We'll start with Genkai, and if she can't offer us information, then we'll move to Botan-_

_-All good suggestions. But first we're going to go tell our mother that we're actually a demon who parasitically possessed her son._

_-See, when you put it like that I can't imagine why we're not doing it._

Genkai was right.

That was the worst part of it. She was right and Kurama could not argue that fact. Still…

Kurama turned back and looked out over the streets that stood between him and the small home that had provided him refuge for the past fifteen years. He could just see the top of the large oak tree in the back yard peeping out over the houses in between. Kurama wasn't sure which feeling was making him queezy. The churning terror that flittered in his chest as Shuichi Minamino contemplated his mother's response, or the deep disgusted hatred Youko Kurama felt as he watched the creature that shared his name and body react so frail and stupidly.

Kurama had twined his way through the streets some hundred times by now. He automatically touched up the wards as he went. It had become a kind of meditative routine over the years that Kurama had spent protecting this house from prying spiritual eyes and demons with a lust for violence. Kurama closed his eyes and ran through the speech again, flipping and twisting words in an attempt to find a combination that would make it seem… better than it was…

Every time he tried to push his mind to think about the confession that he had to make the terrified teenaged boy inside him screamed and ran around in circles until Kurama's mind was worn thin and exhausted.

At the same time cool strain of logic in his mind, that he was currently calling Youko, was running through possibility after possibility faster than Kurama could have produced them on his own. All of them ended in failure.

_An image of Kurama's mother flashed against the blackness, her face contorted in a mixture of surprise and disgust. The expression so foreign on her face that she almost looked possessed. _Kurama's eyes snapped open with hissing gasp that he failed to stifle. His hands clenched at his sides, fingernails digging into his palms as he ordered his body to calm. He drew a breath, and with its exhale he pushed all tension from his body. All thought dissipated from his mind, pushed out through his lungs like a black cloud.

Kurama took a few more breaths to steady himself. He needed to confront this problem with a cool head. He needed not to flinch away from the problem every time it flared up just because some piece of him that was still an immature teenaged boy got scared. Generally in times like this Kurama could set those concerns and emotions aside and examine the present moment in calm clarity. But ever since the final round of the last tournament it had become more and more difficult to switch back to Shuichi Minamino. The human form that he presented to the world no longer slid on seamlessly the moment he needed it. Instead it was beginning to clink into place like a rusting machine- or a costume that was growing too tight to comfortably pull on.

So he had carefully avoided ever allowing that cool mind pattern to be anything more than a background track whenever he was with his mother. But Shuichi Minamino was not the person here who had the power to adequately protect his mother. He had tried to solve the problem as Shuichi, and the frightened teenager had flinched, hid, and ran. He had convinced himself that it wasn't really a problem, or was a problem so big there was no way to fix it.

What Kurama needed was a way to think with Youko's cool calculating mind, while having some mechanism to make sure that he still adhered to Shuichi's morals. Kurama paused for a moment as an idea occurred to him. Then he dropped his bookbag, riffled around in it and drew out a highlighter.

A few minutes later he'd finished his preparations and he closed his eyes, drew a breath and isolated Shuichi. He located every piece of the young scared teenager inside him and gently gathered him away into a corner of his mind, leaving only the calculating track to tackle the problem ahead. Without human inhibition his mind seemed to unfurl, like a machine cleared of black sludge, ideas began leaping to the top of the heap with agile excitement.

_Drug her,_ said one. _When you get back, implant memories of a vacation to Okinawa. Like she's always wanted. She'll never have to know, and she'll even have enjoyed herself._

_And how will Yusuke and Kuwabara react when you come to Genkai's temple with her unconscious body?_ Asked another part of Kurama.

_You have time. Hurry and hide her in the temple before Yusuke and Kuwabara arrive. Genkai will understand—_

—_Genkai knows nothing of our power if she thinks we cannot adequately shield a single human, _another voice cut in._ All we need is a living, sentient sacrifice and we can create a ward that Enma himself couldn't break. We're surrounded by humans. Finding one who no one will miss won't be hard. We used to do it all the time with our treasures. Remember?_

_A single human sacrifice will guard the house. And what will we do when she goes into town? Or are we going to trap her in the house for three months?_

_There are ways to confine her to the house and make her think it was her idea—_

_The streets are crawling with humans. Finding enough to safe guard the whole city won't be difficult—_

_And it will earn us points with Hiei. You have no idea where his allegiance and trust will fall once Koenma runs out of bait. Kill a few people now, protect your mother, earn trust points with Hiei, and help avoid him killing more people in the future. Earn two rewards with one human._

Kurama had hardly had time to process these ideas before they seemed to have solidified in his brain as the clear next step. It was, in fact a perfect solution. Reasonable, convenient, and efficient. But before Kurama's mind could leap ahead and begin planning how to orchestrate the disappearance of a few solitary humans, his mind reminded him that there was a step he had to take before initiating any plan. Kurama reached down, drew his sleeve up and turned his eyes to his forearm. There, scrawled in purple highlighter were the words:

"No drugging."

"No killing."

"Rethink all plans as Shuichi before action."

Kurama felt himself scowl at this message. The blazing stupidity of it glared at him like an insult scrawled across his skin. A sudden impulse to scratch the flesh raw until the message was gone clutched at his mind, and he had to dig his fingers into his arm where they held the sleeve to stop himself. Kurama knew that these conditions had been extremely important when he wrote them, and that any plan that did not comply must be immediately scrapped. Even if he could not remember why they had been so important when he'd written them he forced himself to trust the words on his arm. He had written them with a clear head.

A voice in the back of his mind politely reminded him that his head was clear _now_. He'd written those words in a state of panic so intense he'd had difficulty breathing. Was that what he called a clear head? Because if it was he should go to Genkai immediately and have her help him find a nice padded room somewhere.

The reminder of Genkai sent her words back into Kurama's mind.

"Either be fully truthful with your mother- or manipulate her until she's safe. Choose one."

_Are we prepared to be fully truthful? Are we prepared to tell her everything?_

Kurama hesitated. He didn't have time to reply before Youko kindly provided him with an image of what "full honesty" would look like.

_His mother, face curled with concern as she calmly tried to explain to Kurama why he couldn't possibly be correct, and that perhaps he should talk to someone about all these thoughts he was having…_

Or

_His mother pressed against the corner of the room, eyes wide as she begged him to get out of her house…_

Or

_His mother watched him with detached, empty eyes. One hand rested on her abdomen, her body unconsciously hunching forward slightly as she spoke softly, "Does that mean… Did you kill my real son?"_

The last scenario played out so vividly that Kurama could almost hear the broken tone of his mother's voice. His brain immediately aborted the image to avoid complete mental shutdown, but his head was still buzzing and a wave of something terrible seemed to have paralyzed him. Slowly Kurama managed to calm himself again, steadying his breath and pushing the image away as far as he could place it in his brain. But the lingering possibility of it kept tingling at the edge of his thoughts. He looked down to find his arms scratched to the point of tiny droplets of blood beading along the long tracks his nails had left. It was only then that he realized that he'd been clawing at his arms to calm himself. He quickly pulled his sleeves down. No one was around to see, but his town was not huge, and the likelihood of being recognized was too high to risk.

_So then,_ continued the cool voice that constituted Youko in his mind. _Can we agree that you're not ready to be 'entirely truthful' yet? So shall we then conclude that unless you toughen exponentially in the next few minutes it would be best if you followed Genkai's advice? If you're not going to be truthful, it's high time you allowed us to be manipulative._

Kurama knew Yoko was right. He knew the logic was sound…

_Is that how you justified centuries of manipulation and betrayal?_ He asked that part of himself.

_That is how I thieved from Kings and Gods for centuries and lived to tell of it,_ replied the husky growl. _I faced problems, instead of running from them. The more terrifying the problem, the more important to face it._

Kurama gave a soft hum to himself as he pondered these words. If nothing else… These words felt true. Those words weren't just words Youko lived by… they were words Shuichi could accept…

He also knew that if he did use one of the manipulation tactics Youko had provided, then there would be no going back. He knew it from Youko's memory. Once Youko allowed himself to be manipulative with someone, he could not close that door. It always started small. The tiniest deception, the most well-intentioned fraud…

Kurama refused to go down that path. Not now. Not after 15 years of care.

No.

Shuichi began streaming back into his mind, the human perspective settling in along with the returning childish fear.

* * *

The sun was sinking low when Shiori stepped out onto the back porch. The spring's cool evening bite beginning to set in as the sliding door shut behind her. A ways away at the other edge of the garden stood Shuichi, his head tilted up to the sky, his back toward her.

"Shuichi," Shiori called softly. There was no need to raise her voice with the only noise in the yard being the swishing of new leaves and grass. Even the soft word broke the near perfect silence. Her son didn't stir from where he stood. Shiori tugged her jacket tighter across her chest, the relaxed cut of the robe like garment easily slipping over her shoulders unless she stopped it, and she stepped forward, her shoes clacking softly against the steps, then vanishing into muffled, light taps as she reached the grass.

"Shuichi," she repeated as she drew closer. Her son turned to look at her, dusk's light falling across his face to show an expression of warm surprise, with a tired undertone to it.

"I'm sorry mother, I must not have heard you." He took a step forward as he spoke, removing his hands from his pockets, emerging from his quiet contemplation and immediately snapping into his ever-vigilant helpful mode. "Shall I help you clear up the kitchen?"

Shiori shook her head, holding a hand out to him gently as if to sooth out the burst of energy, "I just finished cleaning up, don't worry."

Shuichi's face seemed to fall a little. "I'm sorry. If you'd called on me I would have helped…"

"I know," Shiori replied, putting all the earnesty that she could into those words. "You seemed engaged, so I didn't want to disturb you."

There was definitely a fall in his expression there, though you had to know him well to see it. You had to know him even better to hear the tiniest touch of nervousness when he said:

"Please mother, you are always welcome to call on me."

"I know," Shiori repeated in the same tone. She turned and made her way to the bench a few paces from where they stood and slowly lowered herself into the seat. For a woman in her early forties her bones were already complaining of mistreatment.

"Sit with me," she requested, not commanded, patting her hand on the space beside her. Shuichi was still for a moment, then moved forward and joined her, sitting further away than he usually would. The dim orange-gold orb that was the remainder of the sun sat over Shuichi's right shoulder, concealing his features in back lit shadow.

"Will you share what's been on your mind lately?" Shiori asked. The question was greeted with silence, but that was nothing new. Shuichi liked to keep his words precise, especially on important matters. So she let the silence linger as her son sat, eyes fixed on some indeterminate spot just past her shoulder, somewhere around the magnolia tree. A gentle breeze came in to fill the space, stirring the his fiery red locks so that they glowed orange in dusk's light.

Her son was silent for a long time. Longer than normal. Much longer.

When he finally spoke his voice was hardly more than a whisper, but in the silence of the garden it seemed like normal speech.

"…I must ask a favor of you…" he said softly. "…And I may not be able to explain my reasoning… But I promise…" The words trailed off as he seemed to lose himself in the torrent of thought that the next sentence created. Shiori watched him for a minute before she spoke.

"I trust you," she said. And she did. The words seemed to break something in the chain of Shuichi's thoughts. His eyes slid shut, and just the slightest furrow of his brow showed the concern he seemed to be masking. Shiori reached out and held her hand between them on the bench, an offer for him to take it in his own. His eyes opened and he looked down at the hand, but did not move. His eyes were still downcast when he spoke again.

"…I need you to come with me and stay with a friend of mine for a few months. It is extremely important that you come and stay there. I will be with you for the first month. Then I must leave, but I will ask you to remain with my friend…" There was another pause. "I cannot explain why."

Shiori's hand had not moved from where it sat between them. Another breeze nudged gently at their sides, sending a petal twirling through the air between them.

"Are you in danger?" Shiori asked. Shuichi hesitated for a moment too long and the silence became its own answer.

"I am in no more danger than is normal," he replied.

Silence.

"Is it serious?" Shiori asked, her tone still calm. Shuichi seemed to be struggling to find a good answer to this as the seconds ticked on, until eventually something seemed to break and he simply answered with the words he had.

"It is more serious than you know, but less serious than you will think."

Shiori took some time to let those words percolate, and nodded as they did. "I understand." Silence. "Shuichi, do you need help?"

The smallest hint of a smile appeared beneath the shadows. His voice was full of reassuring confidence when he replied. "No."

"Are you in over your head?"

"No."

"Are you scared?"

Another hesitation just a bit too long…

"Are you scared because of the danger that you're in?"

"No."

Silence.

"Are you scared because you told me?"

Silence. This silence seemed to stretch, stretch until you could feel it tugging at your blood and pressing in at your sides.

"Are you scared of me?" she ventured.

Silence. Shuichi's face was still concealed from view by his red locks and shadow, his hands perfectly still in his lap. Shiori hazarded another guess.

"Do you believe that I will love you less if I discover the danger that you're in?"

Shuichi didn't move, but his body gave the smallest of shivers timed just wrong to have been caused by the breeze. Yet when he finally spoke his voice was calmer than anything she'd ever heard from him. A calm so deep it bordered on disembodied, as if he were speaking from some high above place through a throat that was built for someone else.

"There are things I cannot tell you. Truths you have no reason to believe… If you knew them, then I can see no reason for you to feel compassion toward me. So I must make unreasonable demands of you without explaining why."

There was another pause of silence. Shuichi gave an empty, halfhearted laugh that was more of a breath.

"I truly do not intend to be so melodramatic."

Shiori smiled softly and repeated once again, "I trust you." She turned her hand, still resting in the space between them, palm up in an open invitation. Slowly, slowly Shuichi's hands stirred from his lap and he let one come to rest gingerly in her palm. Her fingers closed over his, soft palms and fingertips cold as stone.

"You shouldn't," Shuichi said in a voice so far away it seemed to have forgotten to make noise, and came out as a hoarse, husky whisper.

She tightened her grip and pressed her other hand on top, warmth bleeding into his cool skin from every angle. After a moment he shook his head as if to clear it, and pressed his other hand on top of hers, raising their joined hands and resting his forehead against her knuckles, his eyelashes pressing against her fingers.

"I am truly sorry."

They sat like that for a long while, neither of them stirring, before Shuichi finally straightened, his hair falling back from his face to show gentle green eyes and a soft smile.

"You should return inside," he said. "It's gotten very late."

Shiori nodded, gave his hands one last squeeze, then released them.

"Will you come as well?" she asked.

"Shortly," Shuichi replied. "I think I'll sit beneath the stars a little longer."

Shiori nodded and stood, making her way back to the door and without another word she vanished inside.

* * *

_She'd hate you if she knew._

_She should hate you._

_Liar._

_You don't deserve her._

_It's ok, she'll hate me soon enough._

_She'd hate you now if you'd told her._

_Weak._

_Don't tell her. She doesn't deserve that pain._

_You lied this long. Let her die a happy mother._

_Don't pollute her life for your own mental comfort._

_Thief._

_You have to tell her._

_She'll find out soon enough._

_Weak._

_Yusuke and Kuwabara can't keep a secret._

_She'll need to know to avoid Genkai's forest._

_You can't take her to Genkai's temple and expect no one to mention the tournament around her._

_Let her hear it from you—_

_Let her know what she's walking into._

_She deserves that._

_Stupid._

_Weak._

_Liar._

_Thief._

_Murderer._

_You should have just drugged her._

Kurama sat on a bench in his backyard, eyes fixed on the sky above as the last light faded and the stars emerged into crisp view. And in the empty space of green solitude, he wished only for silence.

* * *

A/N _For the Widows in Paradise_ by _Sufjan Stevens_ is quick becoming my theme song for Kurama and his mother. At some point I may take the lyrics and add author's comments to each line to explain the significance to me. In the meantime I highly suggest you check out that lovely piece of art.

A/N number 2- Logistics:

I am leaving the state for spring break next week. I'll be working with a community organization, and I can't bring my computer, so I don't know how much writing I'll get done. I won't be back until Saturday next week, so the next update will be a bit delayed.

Thank you for reading! Happy friday!


	4. 4: Enter Hiei

A/N- I apologize for not updating last week. The week was just as hectic as I imagined. Weekly updates will resume from here.

* * *

**Chapter** **4**

**Enter Hiei**

Kurama left his house before the sun was up. He knew he should stay- he knew he should be there in the morning for breakfast, to show his mother that everything was fine and would continue on as normal. But it wasn't. Kurama had managed at most an hour or two of uneasy sleep. Then the faintest hints of light had appeared on the horizon and Kurama had finally relented and let his body join his restless mind in its agitated pacing.

There was much he still had to tell his mother. He could practically hear Genkai in his mind:

_Well done on being technically honest while saying absolutely nothing. If only this were an election and not warfare._

No matter how he looked at it there was no way she could safely live at Genkai's temple and not have more information about what was happening. To successfully keep her from finding out about the tournament he would have to isolate her from Yusuke, Kuwabara, Hiei, Botan, Yukina, Koenma… pretty much everyone but him. To do that, he'd have to seal her in a closet. And on the list of things he wasn't about to do that was just about the top.

Kurama was exhausted. His mind was full of energy, but no energy to do anything interesting or productive. Just enough energy to think about all of the interesting, productive things he could (and should) be doing if he had the mental capacity for it. And he blessedly needed a rest from thinking about this. Needed a break in the constant quarreling that buzzed in the background of his mind to remind him, just incase he were to forget, just how doomed this his prospects were.

So Kurama had let his pacing feet take him toward the forest, into the cover of the trees, and off in the direction of the small cove where Hiei often took up residence. Hiei never slept in the same space twice, so there was no real way to find him. But he did have a broad area that he generally frequented. Kurama could tell the border by the scent of his energy in the air. And Kurama didn't need to find him. If Hiei didn't want to be found, he probably wouldn't agree to compete with them regardless.

It was still a few hours short of dawn. Kurama was taking a moment to watch the hints of pink light become visible through the trees. The cool air stirred a breeze through the budding branches, bringing the taste of morning dew and tree sap with it. Kurama closed his eyes and breathed it in, then spoke.

"Good morning," he said without turning from the sky. There was no reply, but Hiei was taking no measures to mask his presence, which for him was greeting enough so Kurama continued. "I trust you know what I will ask of you."

"I do," came the cool voice from behind him, tone sharp and cutting. "So I suggest that you cut to the bribing."

Kurama smiled and turned. Hiei was invisible in the shadows of the trees but for the white of his eyes and scarf. Kurama reached into his jacket and pulled out a rolled up strip of paper. He began uncoiling it as he spoke. "I helped to forge the document. If it is not up to your standards you may bring the edited version to Koenma. I have set up a visitation with him, as I presumed you would want to see him sign it with your own eyes." Kurama offered out the document. Hiei's bandaged hand emerged from the shadows to take it. Red eyes flicked across the page.

_I Koenma, heir to throne of Spirit World, do here proclaim that upon the completion of the Dark Tournament in the year 1993 Hiei, Master of the Jagan, will be exonerated of all past crimes and have served his sentence in full. Upon that time he will be released from his probation in the Human World. All binding magics will be lifted from him at the beginning of the tournament._

Hiei began rolling the paperback up and tucked it beneath his cloak.

"It is acceptable phrasing," he said as he did so. "Is that all?"

Kurama gave a nod. "That was all I could haggle for you. I tried for more, but Koenma knows your affinity for Yukina. So he knows that as long as it is likely that she will be around the tournament, you do not need extra persuasion."

The sneering grunt Hiei gave held all the malice that Kurama knew he himself would have shown had Koenma been using threat of his mother to manipulate his actions as he was with Hiei.

"I trust that you know where things stand," Kurama said. Hiei's jagan eye was a powerful tool. There were very few wards that it could not see through. Kurama had put a _lot_ of work into building wards around his house that fit those criteria, and even so he knew that the wards were just enough to blur the image and block the noise. Anything less held no chance. If Hiei had wanted to know what Kurama had been doing outside of his house or some parts of Genkai's temple, then he did. The grunted _hn_ was the only affirmative that Kurama received.

"Yusuke and Kuwabara will be settled into Genkai's by Sunday with their families. As will I with my mother. We'll start our meetings then."

Hiei's eyebrows rose in uninterested curiosity, a movement that could only be discerned by the slight widening of the white of his eyes. "You're bringing your human captor? Won't that rather ruin your clever disguise?" he asked.

Kurama laughed softly. "Yes. Unfortunately it will. But I will not repeat the mistakes of last tournament. I am an old fox, but I am still capable of learning. If things turn out badly, I can easily erase her memories at the end. It will be nothing new really." Kurama smiled as he said this, knowing that Hiei would remember Maya and understand. What he hadn't expected was the sudden rush of… something sad to accompany that memory. Erasing his mother's memories was, in fact, a good idea to keep in his pocket. Especially if she ended up witnessing any of his battles, then it would become necessary. Kurama never wanted to see the expression his mother would look at him with if she saw him in battle.

But somewhere at the back of his mind came the nagging wonder… Would his mother become like Maya? The memory of a bright connection that had existed for one moment, then vanished forever?

Somewhere else a part of his mind was thinking:

_Oh, so we can subject her to the pain of experiencing the tournament and wipe her memories afterward- but _God forbid_ we put her to sleep for it! I'm so glad you're not a raging hypocrite like so many other demons._

_Oh stuff it. _Kurama thought back at it.

Hiei's eyes remained fixed on Kurama, a sneering smile curling his lips. "That is good to see. I was beginning to worry we had more than one senile member of our team."

Kurama just smiled in return. "Can I expect to see you when our meetings start on Monday at Genkai's temple?"

"Do I care about anything you'll be discussing?" Hiei asked. His tone making it perfectly clear that he expected the answer to be no regardless of what Kurama said.

"Our first order of business is our fifth member," Kurama replied. "And I believe that in that matter your opinion is invaluable. Yusuke and Kuwabara are not trained in the art of distrust. And I fear that I have lost more of the art than I like to admit. That is something I believe you are best suited to."

Hiei gave another _hn _again in response, but Kurama had the impression that even though his demeanor did not change, there was an element of pleasure in the reply. Kurama had, in fact, complimented him.

Hiei would not lower his guard so easily, and he likely expected that Kurama was manipulating him. But that didn't mean that Hiei couldn't enjoy the manipulation while it lasted. After all, what is life if not finding someone to manipulate you enjoyably between getting knifed in the back?

"I will not subject myself to the idiocy of those two. If you require my advice, then you will meet me alone after your meetings in Genkai's forest and we will have a _real_ discussion."

Kurama nodded. "That is acceptable."

Hiei straightened from the tree, the paper tucked in his cloak crinkling softly. He reached beneath his cloak to touch it, a frown pressing down on his features.

"What is the punishment for assassinating the heir to Spirit World again?"

"Last time I looked it was still eternal damnation."

"Almost worth it."

"Hiei, if you're going to discuss treason, please allow me to put up more wards," Kuram said with a smile, his eyes twinkling. Hiei gave a sharp laugh and then vanished. Kurama watched after him, a smile on his lips. For all of the demon's coldness, his blunt sharpness did brighten Kurama's day.

Kurama's mind reminded him that Koenma might have been watching this. His final comment had been meant as a joke, but Koenma didn't always have the best sense of humor when it came to threats on his life, funnily enough. It might have been better to be more discrete and keep his silence…

Kurama considered getting worried about this, weighed it against the other things that he had to worry about, and decided it wasn't worth it. If Koenma was angry with Kurama later, Kurama would tell him that he was simply speaking Hiei's language in order to gain the demon's trust.

Koenma would value that. Koenma would value anything that made Hiei less of a wildcard once the tournament finished and their influence over him was broken—

Realization hit Kurama like a sack of bricks.

_Oh- Stupid!_ He chastised himself. _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

How he'd managed to miss something so obvious was beyond him. Perhaps he _was_ going senile.

Of course Yusuke wasn't the target! Why had he focused so narrowly on Yusuke? He should _know_ better!

Hiei was dangerous.

Hiei killed humans.

Hiei hated Spirit World.

Hiei had robbed Spirit World.

And now Hiei had first hand experience with the inner workings of Spirit World.

And Hiei was about to be released back into the wild.

_So obvious!_

Plan:

Kill Hiei.

Pin it on the anti-human factions in Demon World.

Yusuke is furiously burning for vengeance for his lost friend.

Yusuke starts killing demons without remorse.

"My detective will kill you if you attack Human World." Message sent.

Yusuke itching for revenge is a fabulous pawn with which to start a justified attack on Demon World.

Kurama could imagine just how Enma would frame it.

"You cannot control your demons and now they have gone too far. I must take matters into my own hands."

_So what now? Do I stop Hiei from competing?_ Kurama asked himself.

…_We don't know for sure that this hunch is the correct one. It's a brilliant idea, yes. But that doesn't _necessarily _mean that Enma is planning it. Furthermore, if we lose Hiei we'll be down two members and we're struggling enough to find one person we can trust. In addition there is not guarantee that Hiei will be safer if he doesn't compete. Yusuke's friend is killed while Yusuke is busy at the tournament is just as tragic a motivation for Yusuke's rage. And even easier to orchestrate with Hiei isolated from the group._

No. The solution to this is the same as the solution to everything else.

Extreme caution.


	5. 5: Honest: Second Attempt

A/N - I know so far this fic has been a _lot_ of Kurama angsting over his mum and doing prep stuff. I promise we'll get into the nitty gritty of the plot soon!

Thank you to everyone who's followed and favourited, and especially those who have commented! It's all really appreciated and keeps me going!

* * *

**Chapter 5**

**Honesty: Second Attempt**

Shiori worked her way through a pile of laundry, sorting it into small stacks of what would return to the closet and what would be put into the small suitcase she was bringing. Shuichi had told her that the friend they would be staying with was a martial arts trainer who lived in a temple in the hills, bordered by forest. He had urged her to pack lightly, and as if she were going hiking.

Shiori had not gone hiking in a few years. Shuichi and her used to take trips to the mountains every summer when he got out of school for break. But her illness had thrown a wrench in that tradition. She'd made a better recovery than anyone would have expected- a better recovery than the doctors had believed possible. But she'd spent a long time bed ridden, and she was still in the process of regaining the physical strength that she had lost.

She'd just finished hanging the last of the shirts that she was leaving behind when a knock at the door of her room caught her attention. Shuichi stood in the doorway, hovering just behind the threshold. She gave him a nod to invite him in.

"I'm nearly done. Have you drafted our train schedule?"

"Yes," Shuichi replied. "We'll leave tomorrow at 10:30. We should arrive by one o'clock. Would you like to take a walk with me before we start on dinner?"

Shiori straightened and rolled her sleeves down. "That sounds lovely." She was glad every time Shuichi approached her now. He'd spent the entire week alternating between distant, uncomfortable silence, absence, and apologetic smiles. Every so often the mysterious trip that they were taking tomorrow would come up and he would drop another piece of information. Such as that they would be staying in a temple, and that there would be a number of Shuichi's friends staying there. When Shiori had asked if she knew these friends Shuichi had laughed nervously and shook his head.

The air just beginning to cool and tasted crisp in Shiori's lungs as they stepped together down the path and started off on a walk around the block. They'd walked the trail many times when Shiori had been in recovery. Shuichi giving her encouragement everyday- he'd known how much she improved each day better than she had.

The first period of their walk went by in silence. As they turned their first corner Shuichi spoke.

"…You deserve more information about what is happening before we leave tomorrow," he said simply. There was another stretch of silence punctuated by their scraping footsteps over the concrete sidewalk.

"If you can tell me, I would like to know," Shiori replied when her son didn't continue.

"…I want to warn you, that my friends… are a bit… interesting, when you first meet them. They're nothing like anyone I've introduced to you before."

There was the rhythmic crunch of their footsteps.

"I see… Are these the friends you made while I was ill?"

Shuichi gave a start, blinking at her.

"I…" He faltered like a cat caught stealing meat from the counter before he guiltily admitted, "Yes…"

Shiori smiled. "I remember the black haired boy who you brought to meet me. It was the first time you ever brought anyone with you," she said, reflecting on the moment in her memory. She had been surprised. Very surprised. Shuichi made friends in school, yes. But it had always seemed as if making friends was a chore that he performed. In order to appear normal, in order to fit in, in order to placate his worried teachers, she didn't know. But he'd never brought anyone home or to visit.

"And I noticed that you began spending more time away after that point," she continued.

Beside her Shuichi had a guilty expression on his face. As if he thought that having made friends while she had been ill was somehow impure.

"…I'm sorry," he apologized levelly, as if he feared that if he put emotions into his words the balance of the moment would break.

"That's nothing to apologize for, Shuichi," Shiori reassured him, and moved on quickly, hoping to make his mind shift gears away from whatever thoughts were causing him guilt. "Are these the friends who went with you on your school trip to Kyoto last year, by any chance?"

Beside her Shuichi bit his lip. At his sides his fingers were clenching and unclenching around an invisible objects.

"…Yes… they were… I…" Shuichi closed his eyes. Shiori waited for a moment, and then volunteered a sentence.

"You didn't go to Kyoto."

Shuichi's eyes flew open, the color draining from his face. Shiori wished that she could take his hand and soothe away the fear that made him jump and start every time she spoke. But she couldn't, so instead she simply smoothed out her voice.

"Shuichi, it's alright. I'm not angry. I just wish that you felt safe enough to be truthful with me. Whatever you've gotten yourself into we can work through. I promise I won't be angry," Shiori put as much sincere emotion into her voice as she could without making it too forceful. There was another span of silence as Shuichi processed this. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. Watched the subdued expression on his face flicking through imaginary possibilities. She'd seen that expression before when he played go or chess. But neither game had ever left him so lost for solutions for so long.

"Last year when I told you that I was going to Kyoto, I was actually competing in a tournament. This year I must compete again."

Shiori's mind grasped at that information- trying to figure out what kind of tournament would have her son worried for their safety—what kind of tournament _must_ he compete in. She didn't ask any of these questions aloud, allowing Shuichi the space to answer them in his own time. They had gone full circle and were returning toward the house. Shiori could tell by feel before she could see the house. There was a rush of homeliness that hit whenever she turned the corner. As if there was a dome radiating out from their home that cast friendly warmth like sunlight.

When they reached their house Shuichi wordlessly lead his mother off the side walk, down the drive way and through the path that lead along side the house. He stopped there, halfway between the front and the backyard just beneath an arch that was slowly being recolonized by the Japanese ivy as it emerging from its winter dormancy. There Shuichi turned to her.

"I want to show you something," he said breathlessly.

Shiori watched as Shuichi stared at her intently for a few moments. His face blank of anything that could be read as an expression in those gentle eyes. But something seemed to be alive behind them that hadn't been there a moment before. Then he turned to look at the ivy where it was clinging the to base of the wooden arch. His hand reached out and his middle finger brushed one of the younger leaves. Then his fingers spread in a blooming motion and the small, pale green leaf blossomed into a full leaf of deep, noble green. Shuichi drew his hand up the vine as if he were raising an invisible shawl and leaves began to spring from the barren stem as his fingers passed. The green bursting into existence like candles lighting in the wake of a torch.

Shiori sucked in a breath of astonishment before she even realized. The trail of leaves twined and curled in a flourishing braid, new vines curling and snaking out from the existing growth and tumbling down over each other as they ran out of space on the arch and spilled over into the space between her and Shuichi like a riffling stream.

"…How—?" Shiori breathed in wonder. Her hand reaching up to touch the vine hung between them, then jerking to a hesitating stop.

"You can touch it," Shuichi said as he reached out and held his hand beneath the hanging vine. Without any provocation it snaked down and began curling between his fingers, wrapping loosely around his hand, then twining round his arm. "It won't hurt you."

Shiori let her fingers brush one of the leaves that curled from her son's hand, and trailed her fingers along the rubbery new mint colored vine. Very gently and slowly the vine seemed to reach out and weave loosely around her finger. The leaves as they grew pressed against her skin, like a small newborn animal nuzzling its mother for affection.

"…How?" Shiori repeated again. Shuichi was watching her with eyes that, though distant, seemed to have bloomed into something greener in the presence of the ivy.

"There are people…" Shuichi replied. "Who can manipulate energy to influence the world in… unconventional ways."

"And you're one of them?" Shiori asked.

"I have that capability," Shuichi affirmed. A smile took Shiori's face and she found herself laughing. The vine tightened lightly around her fingers almost like a hug, and she suddenly had to resist the urge to figure out how to knit ivy-sized sweaters. Her laughter seemed to be infectious, and a moment later Shuichi was laughing with her, though still with a nervous undertone to it.

"This is the secret? The secret way that you got our yard to grow like this? Year after year, but would never tell?"

Shuichi's laughter seemed genuine then, his face flushing red in embarrassment.

"How long have you been able to do this?" Shiori asked. Shuichi hesitated.

"I can't say, exactly… For about as long as I can remember."

Shiori remembered the small boy who had curled up in the rhododendron bush and begun crying the moment she tried to bring him inside, until she'd been forced to wait until he fell asleep in his nest of leaves then whisk him away indoors. She remembered the ten year old who had spent hours watching over an already perfect garden.

Her son with a thumb so green it must have come from the Gods themselves.

And it all made sense now.

She wanted to ask if this was what he'd been afraid that she'd hate him for, but a better sensibility came over her before she did. If this was what he'd been afraid of telling her, then he'd told her and that was all that mattered. If this wasn't he'd been afraid of telling her, bringing it up would only make him scared again.

Shiori shifted her fingers and the vine loosened and fell away. The vine around Shuichi's arm also loosened and dropped in a spiral reaching for the ground.

"Not everything that possesses these capabilities is friendly," Shuichi continued, his tone turning grave again. "Some are violent, cruel, unthinking, and do not understand compassion."

Shiori was till mesmerized by the vine before her, but something in his words caught her attention, and a moment later she figured out what it had been.

"…Every_thing_?" she asked. "Thing, as in, not human?"

"…Yes," Shuichi replied.

"And that is what we're hiding from," Shiori continued. Shuichi nodded.

"Are your friends also like you? Gifted humans?" she asked.

"…They are also gifted, yes."

"This tournament… It's not a chess tournament, is it?"

Shuichi laughed sadly.

"…No…"

Shiori felt that she knew the answer before she asked. She remembered her pacifist son studying martial arts. She had always thought that he studied for the love of balanced motion, like a dance…

"You fight?" she asked. Shuichi nodded slowly.

"Yes. To keep the crueler creatures a bay."

Shiori's mind was slowly piecing together the information. Picking out the things between what Shuichi had and hadn't said. Her son fought. In a tournament with non-human creatures that he feared might attack him outside of the tournament.

"You said that you competed last year. Did you win?"

Shuichi smiled. "Yes."

He had won… but what had the fights with such creatures been like? Shiori couldn't imagine that creatures that her son feared might target him at his home would sheathe their claws in the ring.

"How did this start? How on earth did you get involved in this, Shuu-chan?" Shiori asked. Shuichi smiled.

"That is a _very_ long story," he said with a nervous laugh. "One for another day…"

Shiori took the messaged and accepted it. She reached out and took her son's hands in hers, looking him the eye as she spoke.

"Thank you for telling me this. I admire your courage."

Shuichi's smile still held the tinge of distance and sadness, and Shiori knew that their conversations were not over. She tightened her hands on his, and slowly drew him into a hug. Her son's body was stiff in her arms, and it took a good few moments for it to relax and lean into her warmth. His arms gently wrapped around her torso and as he relaxed they slowly tightened around her.

Once again, when they broke Shiori left Shuichi alone outside to recover and process whatever he needed to before returning inside.

Kurama leaned back against the wall of the house and looked up at the setting sun. The lingering warmth and stillness from his mother's embrace wore off far too fast.

The more he shared with her, the more he felt like a heartless fraud for the web of half-truths he was spinning around him. True, no word he had spoken to her had been false. She had made the assumption that he was human, and he had carefully not addressed it. He hadn't lied.

Kurama hated himself.

He wished that he could go back to the relationship that he had had with her before the tournament. He saw in her eyes how his distance hurt her. And he yearned like he could never remember yearning for anything else to go back to the time when he could be relaxed and warm every moment in her presence. Not doing so felt like betraying some sacred duty.

_Are you sure?_ Asked that ever-rational piece of him._ You've yearned for things before. You've yearned for treasures and tokens and people until your spirit was set aflame with hungry desire. But they're never as fun once you have them, are they? The reward is never as fulfilling as the chase. And you always lose interest when you finally get what you want._

_Are you sure your mother is an exception? Are you positive you won't tire of her?_

_Yes-!_ Kurama bit back against that part of his mind with his entire body. That was all he could say. The idea that he would lose his love for his mother like an amulet he'd grown tired of was so ridiculous that his mind refused to ever process the idea.

_That is what we always used to say_, replied the voice.

The problem with transforming so heavily into Youko during the first tournament was that in the wake of the tournament Kurama had begun to remember things that he had forgotten. Memories of his previous life resurfaced from a deeper place in his brain. Unfortunately the more he remembered of what he had been, the less he trusted himself now.

Even things that he had always taken for granted, like his love for his mother, became warped and twisted when viewed through the lens of Youko Kurama- and the memories of his heartless past.

And some of the things that Kurama remembered left him cold to the touch.

A year ago he had been certain… He had remembered perfectly his escape from Demon World and his journey to possess the soulless body of an unborn child. He had known the story perfectly and never doubted any part…

Now when he thought back, his mind raised questions that he had never wanted to ask…

_Are you sure it was soulless?_

_Are you sure you didn't feel the flickers of budding life fade away as you wrenched a child from his mother's womb to make space for your own, rotted soul?_

A year ago Kurama had been positive. He could have answered that question easily, and the answer had been no.

Today…

Kurama simply couldn't remember…


End file.
